USCMRPG

Private Carlson’s breath began to normalize as Doc spoke to him. He answered the questions with increasing calm. Lighting one of the cigarettes from his squad leader, he inhaled deeply several times and exhaled the smoke into the air. “I’m okay now, I’m sorry.” He crushed the cigarette out and got to his feet before replacing the helmet on his head. (Medical roll: success)

Henniger and Williams investigated the escape pods and discovered that they had all been launched and were now just empty airlocks.

Hall and Grisham made a more distressing discovery. Hall reached the terminal which read FUSION REACTOR COOLANT SYSTEM CONTROL STATION, stenciled in yellow letters above the screen. She clicked a few buttons on the touch screen and saw bright red letters on the screen. FUSION REACTOR COOLANT STATUS: UNSTABLE. COOLANT LEAK DETECTED IN 17 LOCATIONS. ENGAGE RESERVE COOLANT SYSTEMS AND FOLLOW APPROPRIATE EMERGENCY PROTOCOLS.
(Actions)

Private Carlson shot a sidelong glance at Doc as they rejoined the others. "Why did you ask me my name? You think I'm crazy or something?" His brows were furrowed behind the glass of his helmet. He almost walked into Oliver Grisham, who put out a hand reflexively. "Get the fuck off me!" growled Carlson, pushing Grisham hard and knocking him over in the unbalanced pressure suit.
<Tag Kelly/Grisham>

Henniger dropped his pulse rifle to dangle on its harness and approached Carlson from behind. No way he was tolerating unprovoked violence by his squad against other Marines. He nodded to Doc and Williams as he shot his arms out and around Carlson's neck between his helmet and gorget seal. Clearly the kid was cracking up. His squad, his problem.

<roll unarmed combat, surprise rear>
<roll nonlethal restraint>
<call in medivac once successfully restrained>

"Grab him by the stacking swivel!" He called once he had a firm purchase.

<tag everyone>

“I s’pose it were me own fault” mumbled Grisham getting to his feet “I’d’ve done well to look where I was going.”

Nonetheless he leapt forward, following the lead of his commanding officer also seeking to restrain Carlson.

<roll non-lethal restrain>

Davros' voice came over the comms link "Marines if you haven't opened your pressure suit leave your seals fucking shut. Potential airborne contaminants are in the air. If you have opened it reseal that shit right fucking now!! There is a possible out break of space herpes, so don't breath it, eat it,or fuck it got that marines!! We are here to rescue civis but we can't do that if i have to scrape the barnacles off your balls. Keep yourselves as safe as you can. There was a crate that was knocked over that contained whatever is affecting this crew, we need to locate it and figure out what it was."
<Tag everyone.>

Davros keyed Doc Doc, Space herpes outbreak. Someone got drunk and decided to plow a crate. He got somethin and now so does everyone else. They went nuts. Watch our boys if they start eyeballing you they probably don't want a date. Its not gonna be fun. Hope we brought enough supplies. There should be enough sedatives in the medic bags i set up to knock out an elephant so it should help calm a dozen marines. If we do find that crate make sure no one touches shit we don't want anyone's dick rottin off. Stay safe, stay frosty. Holler back if you got anything." He had to remember to breath in between his sentences, hopefully Doc caught all that. He would hate to have to repeat that slower.
<tag Doc>

As Henniger subdued his Marine he heard Davros' message over the comms.

"Doc Kelly stand by with that sedative."

<tag Kelly>

"Sergeant Major," he commed Sykes struggle clear in his voice. "Got a contaminant affecting my Marines, one combative...fuck." He seat dropped Carlson so that they were both supine on the deck, arms firmly gripped around his neck and shoulders. His bulky e-suit helmet clunked heavily and rang his bell a little. Carlson was struggling mightily but he had to get him under control without hurting him. It wasn't the kid's fault what was happening. This crate was a fucking sunken treasure of lunacy.

"Going to need a medevac," he continued, "got one combative he won't be any good to us in his condition. Attempting to...Christ hit him with the tranq Doc!"

<tag Sykes/Doc Kelly>

Samantha's eyes darted here and there as events suddenly exploded all around here like a whirlwind. She clicked her comms over to Sykes' and Morse's frequency and hurriedly says, "SGT Major, Morse...we gotta serious problem....the computer screen is saying dat de Fusion Reactor coolant system is unstable and leaking' all over de place. It's saying we need to 'engage reserve coolant system and follow emergency protocols', which seems to me to be meanin' we need to get de hell outta dis place!"

As she was talking, she raced over to help contain the struggling Carlson, calling out; "SETTLE DOWN MON! YOU GOT SOME KINDA BUG OR SOME'TING MAKING YOU CRAZY!", as she does her best to hold him steady while Doc tranquilizes him.

<Tag Sykes and Morse>
<Tag those around Carlson>

Darren stood clear as the two NCO's grappled with Carlson. He extracted a sedative shot in a pen-type rapid applicator from his medi-pack and waiting for his chance to step in and administer it. In a few seconds they had the struggling marine restrained and Darren grabbed his opportunity. He popped the safety cap off the applicator with thumb and thumped it down hard into the junction of Carlson's neck and shoulder. The hypodermic needle shot home with a pneumatic hiss, delivering enough sedatives to put down even a hardened stim-junkie directly into the private's bloodstream.

<roll medicine>

"Doc, Space herpes outbreak. Someone got drunk and decided to plow a crate. He got somethin and now so does everyone else. They went nuts. Watch our boys if they start eyeballing you they probably don't want a date. Its not gonna be fun. Hope we brought enough supplies. There should be enough sedatives in the medic bags i set up to knock out an elephant so it should help calm a dozen marines. If we do find that crate make sure no one touches shit we don't want anyone's dick rottin off. Stay safe, stay frosty. Holler back if you got anything."

Darren dropped the empty applicator and ran a rapid check of his suit seals, then keyed his radio on the platoon channel.

"3-3 to all callsigns. Heads up guys, possible airborne pathogen. close your lids and seal them tight. Internal air supply only. if anyone starts feel strange, report to me or Davos at once. If you spot any damaged shipping crates, stay at least 2 meters clear and report its position. Under no circumstances touch it! Trust me, you don't want to catch this shit"

<Roll HARD suit operation>
<Tag Everyone>

The Marines subdued and disarmed Carlson without any injury. Doc’s sedative took effect almost at once and the crazed Marine began to doze peacefully. (Success all round)

Sergeant Major Sykes’ brows furrowed with stress. The suit was becoming very uncomfortable and he could understand poor Carlson’s desire to remove his helmet. He took out his anger on Davros who was speaking in a colorful way. “Morse, I copy you. Lance Corporal Davros, cut that bullshit and speak like a professional Marine, you understand me?”

“Okay, we need to medivac Carlson back to the mini-subs. We need to engage the reserve coolant system and figure out how much time we have before, god forbid, a reactor meltdown or something like that. And we need to link up with First Squad ASAP.” Sykes shook his head, trying to clear the stress that was clogging his thought processes.
<Tag everyone>

Grisham ambled over to the control terminal. He was uneducated but not stupid. Since childhood he had been able to multiply large sums in his head and intuitively understand complex machinery, talents which had sadly never been recognized as more than curiosities leaving him to be sent down the mines at 13 with the rest of his graduating class. His mind now turned to the task of engaging the reserve coolant system. With great care he took stock of everything on the screen reading carefully and taking stock of the different buttons and controls. Finally he settled on a course of action.

<<roll to attempt to use the terminal>>

“Okay, we need to medivac Carlson back to the mini-subs. We need to engage the reserve coolant system and figure out how much time we have before, god forbid, a reactor meltdown or something like that. And we need to link up with First Squad ASAP.”

Darren folded the now slumbering Carlson into the recovery position on the deck, slightly awkwardly due to the bulk of his HARDsuit. He straightened up and keyed his radio to the command net.

"LT, this is 3rd squad requesting CASEVAC. Nine-line to follow:
Line 1 - Main Engineering, South-West corner - Break
Line 2 - This Freq, Devil Dog 3-3 - Break
Line 3 - 1A - Break
Line 4 - A - Break
Line 5 - 1L - Break
Line 6 - P - Break
Line 7 - E - Break
Line 8 - A - Break
Line 9 - B - Break
How copy my last? Over"

<Tag Lt Harper, Sgt Hall, Sgt Sykes>

Henniger put a gloved hand over his helmet mic and approached the sergeant major.

"Sergeant Major, bringing anyone else in here ain't happening. So the squids back on the subs can't help us. You need someone here to deal with the coolant system. Carlson is my man, Doc and Williams can evac him and link up with 1st after or just meet them at the sub, whatever our mission is now."

He Paused.

"I'll volunteer to stay here and work the problem but Doc will need Williams to help him with the litter. Your call boss."

<Tag Sykes>

As Grisham keyed the terminal, he found a complex interface with dozens of keys. He clicked a large button in the corner that read "SIMPLE SCREEN" and the numerous small buttons became half a dozen large buttons. He clicked the key that read "ENGAGE RESERVE COOLANT SYSTEM." The screen border changed from red to yellow and the room was filled with a whirring, humming sound. The screen read in bold letters: "RESERVE COOLANT SYSTEM ENGAGED. CRITICAL REACTOR SITUATION DELAYED." Grisham clicked another key and the screen read "ESTIMATED TIME TO CRITICAL REACTOR SITUATION: 8 HOURS, 23 MINUTES."

Meanwhile, Doc heard the response to his request for medivac. The operator on the other end of the radio followed all the protocols but the answer was simple; negative. Sergeant Major Sykes looked from Henniger to Doc to Carlson on the floor. His mind felt slow and clogged. His usual sharp and instant decision was impaired by the stress he was feeling. Then, like a bolt of lightning, decision struck him. He knew his mind was not operating at capacity and so he chose to trust his squaddie who seemed certain of the right course of action. He nodded and gave the green light, "Yes, do it."
<Tag Henniger>

Henniger turned from the sergeant major and clomped over to the Marines clustered around Carlson. A distant part of his mind recognized Carlson's name to a historical Marine from the distant 20th Century in Old America. Guy was an innovator in special operations in the second World War. He shook his helmet a bit. Funny what blurbs from his university days came back to him at moments like this.

"Doc," he addressed Kelly. "You and Williams get Carlson packaged and move him back to the subs."

<tag Kelly>

He looked around and spoke to Sergeant Hall.

"Sergeant, if you can spare a man, I'd really feel better with a pulse rifle covering these three during the evac."

<tag Samantha>

He turned his attention back to Kelly.

"Get your casualty to the subs and report directly to the Sergeant Major and the LT. I'm staying here to monitor the critical system issue. If you can't get comms after you stow Carlson, secure the evac point at the subs and stand by."

<tag Kelly>

Henniger glanced at his chrono and systems readouts on his forearm and hacked the eight hours and change. He pinged his squads' systems with the timer and linked the count down.

Turning his attention back to Kelly and the others, he spoke.
"That timer is all the time on this crate we have left. If things go pear-shaped be onboard our ride no later than eight hours to get clear."

<tag everyone>

He walked over to Grisham and pulled his comtech device from a water tight plastic belt pouch and clipped in to the spare terminal. He ran a wide systems diagnostic and checked the counter on his weapon system.

<roll comtech skill>